


Drawning Without

by schierlingsbecher



Series: Spideypoolweek [6]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Drug Abuse, Established Relationship, M/M, Peter is a drug addict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schierlingsbecher/pseuds/schierlingsbecher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfortunately, there are more sectres about Spider-Man than that he's Peter Parker. Much worse secrets.</p><p>Day 6 - Secrets</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawning Without

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I couldn't reread this - please tell me if there are any holes.
> 
> For my own prompt: Peter as a drug addict.

Wade stepped over the threshold, shuddering at the scent that greeted him in the semi-dark room. He'd always thought his apartment was bad, but it never smelled like feces or vomit. He only hoped he wouldn't step into either. Wade narrowed his eyes; it was hard to see the room when sometimes bright stripes of sunlight flooded through the nailed up windows and licked over dusty air and rotten floor boards.

He heard a soft hum from the far corner of the room - it was a voice he would recognize before everything else in the world.

"Petey?"

Burbling.

"Petey, it's me, Wade.”

A hand brushed his calf and Wade turned around in a sudden motion. There was something on the ground. At first it looked like a trash bag; lumpy and shapeless, but then it uncurled and Wade dropped to his knees in front of Peter's body.

"Baby..."

“Wawwe…”

“Yeah, that’s me, sweetie-pie…” Wade whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. His smile might’ve been a little too broad. As he looped his arms around Peter, he heard a sharp clink of something small falling to the ground and rolling down the uneven floor. Wade didn’t want to know what it was, shuddering inwardly.

“We’ll take you home now and have a nice warm bathy, yeah? Pamper and coddle you?”

He flashed him a bright smile without really feeling like it and nodded to the door he had entered through. Peter tried to reach for his arm clumsily, his strength leaving him half-way. Wade's hart sank into his stomach; Peter - weak and feeble. He bent down to pick him up and as soon Peter was cradled in his arms, the stench of bile struck his face, making it hard to breathe.

“And up ya go. Piece of cake, wasn’t it? Watch out you don’t drool all over yourself and just keep breathing baby. I’ll bring you home.”

Taking slow steps, Wade and Peter left the room and the house.

~

Wade didn’t know whatever higher power let him carry Peter the four blocks to his apartment without running into anybody who might ask why Deadpool carried a hobo in his arms, but they did a great job. The cold air of the early morning made Peter shiver in his arms, though Wade was thankful for the constant reassurance that Peter didn’t pass out or choked to death on his own saliva silently.

They reached his apartment building around 6 am and Wade opened the door to the flat with the key he knew was hidden under a loose edge of the cheap carpet. He brought Peter into his bedroom and really tried to ignore the mess of clothes, uneaten take-out and medical supplies, though it was hard when he almost slipped on a bunch of used plastic syringes. A cold shiver ran down Wade’s back.

Making sure the bed was clean, Wade placed Peter onto the blankets and disappeared for a moment into the bathroom, making sure the room was free from any garbage and somehow clean. He threw away some razor blades he found in the sink and rinsed the bathtub with hot water before putting in the plug and filling it. Back in the bedroom, two glassy eyes tried to focus on him and Wade kneeled next to Peter on the bed, feeling his chest for the slight rise and fall of his breath.

“’Kay Petey, we’re gonna take those clothes off now. No peeking though, cross my heart!”

The way his gaze swam a little before it landed on Wade’s face again and the little jerks he made with his arms, like he wanted to undress himself but couldn’t, shattered something deep inside Wade’s very soul. He winked at Peter and began to pull off the dirty sweater, babbling about how it was nearly impossible to find nice merch of the Wasp. He wasn’t really listening to himself, too busy cataloguing the different wounds and injuries he found on Peter’s body as he undressed him – the worst were the punctures on his lower arms that slowly faded towards his elbow. Wade’s stomach turned.

“Naked like the day you were born. Ready for a bath, baby boy? But no splashing.”

Peter grunted something at that and Wade tried to persuade himself that it was a soft laughter.

As he carefully sat him down into his bathtub, Peter gasped slightly, but relaxed immediately and leaned his head against the tiles. Wade turned off the water and took the washcloth hanging over the edge of the tub to gently wash the dirt off Peter’s body.

Slowly, after refilling the tub with hot water several times, a faint pink returned to Peter’s skin and 

For a while, he just watched how Peter started wiggling his fingers and toes, or moved his arms with a little more precision. When his breathing was finally regular and he watched his hands open and close in the warm water, Wade nudged his shoulder softly. From the corner of his eye, Peter watched how Wade's fingers traveled down his arm to the scarred red punctures, rubbing them slowly.

He didn't know what to say about it. Just one word lay on his tongue and Wade stared at Peter, confusion and worry written on his face.

"Baby... Why?”

"Is... Was just that one time... Uncle Ben had just..." Peter bit his lips at that and tried to blink the moistness in his eyes away "And I became Spider-Man and... people relied on me... with their life. And I couldn't even help my..."

Peter's head snapped forward and his body started jerking with almost violent sobs, water splashing. Wade put his hand on Peter's neck, stroking the sweaty skin there softly.

“I couldn’t even save my uncle. I am worthless and everyone expects me to be a hero.” Tears streamed down Peter’s cheeks, dropping into the bathtub.

“Then this one day I chased that dealer. He lost a bag of powder when he dashed through an alley and I took it. I meant to throw it into the mailbox of the police station, so no kid would find it. But I just... kinda kept it. I don't know why and I... I didn’t think it’d work for me like it would for others… and I never tried it before and I thought it wouldn't do no harm to _try once_. After the first few tries I almost felt nothing and... I couldn't handle it anymore. I guess I found my limit.”

Peter leaned back and sank deeper into the tub, staring blindly at the ceiling, arms hugging his knees. His voice was only a rough whisper.

“Wade, I can’t do this. I can’t.”

It was like ice running down his trhoat and into Wade's stomach, hearing Peter so hopeless, so broken. He'd always been his hero.

"Hey, sure you can sweetums. You're the amazing Spidey Gloryass. Piece a' cake, I tell ya."

Wade tried to smile again, but Peter's body shook again with sobs. His hands were cramped and his arms shaking, but the pleasing look he gave Wade was all it took: he reached for his naked, wet body, pulling him into a tight hug, water soaking through the material of his suit and dripping onto the floor.

Peter started crying in earnest and Wade could do nothing but hold him.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [Schierlingsbecher](http://schierlingsbecher.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat or follow me <3
> 
> Also, feedback is always much appreciated ♥
> 
> Thank you for reading ♥


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